


Strange and New

by doop_doop



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fist Fights, Getting Together, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, No Spoilers, Polyamory, Pre-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:09:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24794431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doop_doop/pseuds/doop_doop
Summary: When Felix meets Caspar, he thinks he's found a new sparring partner - someone who likes fighting just as much as he does.He has - but he's found much more, too.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Caspar von Bergliez/Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Linhardt von Hevring, Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Linhardt von Hevring
Comments: 13
Kudos: 61





	Strange and New

**Author's Note:**

> This was incredibly fun to write, and I hope I did these three justice. 
> 
> (Note that this fic contains descriptions of non-life threatening injuries - specifically a broken nose that bleeds a lot.)

“Hey,” the boy said. 

Felix looked around; there was no one else in the training grounds but the two of them. “Are you talking to me?” he asked, rather unnecessarily.

“I see you training here a lot. You’re Felix, right?”

Felix frowned. He did not remember the boy’s name, and had only a vague feeling that he’d seen him here before. “Yeah,” Felix said. “So?”

“So I bet you’re super strong, huh?”

Felix refused to let himself get a big head, but had to admit that being called _super strong_ was not unpleasant. “I suppose,” he said. “I’m here more than anyone else.” He did not know if this last sentence was true, but it _felt_ true. He was certainly there more than any other Blue Lion.

“I know you are!” the boy said, grinning. “I get up super early to train, but you’re always here already. And sometimes I think I’m staying really late, but when I leave you’re still here, hacking away with your sword. It’s crazy how much energy you have!”

Felix scuffed a shoe on the ground. The boy’s words only served to remind him that it was already halfway through the day and he hadn’t trained yet, not at all. “What’s your point?”

“Well,” the boy said, stepping towards Felix, “I train a lot, too. I happen to think I’m pretty strong, myself! But it’s hard for me to find people to practice with. People on my level, I mean - Raphael will spar with me anytime, but he’s too strong, and I can’t beat him yet.” The boy sighed, and Felix made a mental note to inquire further about this Raphael person. “Anyways, long story short, I wanted to see if you’re closer to my level. Will you spar with me?”

“Fine,” Felix said, voice steely but heart pounding with excitement already. “Get your weapon.”

“Nah,” the boy said. “I fight with my fists.” He held them up as if to say _These fists, here,_ and grinned. “Still wanna fight me?”

“Of course.” 

Felix went to put his sword away. When he came back, the boy was actually _bouncing,_ his fists held high in a fighter’s stance. “You ready for me?” he said, his voice shrill with excitement. 

For the first time, Felix really looked at his opponent. He was small; Felix was nowhere near the tallest student at the Officers’ Academy, but this boy was half a head smaller. He had _some_ muscle, and broad shoulders for someone his height, but everything about him screamed amateur - his over-excitement, his jumpiness, that manic gleam in his eye.

“I’m ready,” Felix said, raising his own fists.

He was barely able to dodge the first strike, which came before the words had finished leaving his lips. And there was no rest for Felix: after his first punch failed to land, the boy kept swinging, pushing forward so quickly that Felix felt himself driven back almost to the edge of the training grounds.

Felix landed the first blow, somehow, but it was a glancing one, on the edge of the boy’s shoulder. He knew immediately it wouldn’t do more than stun him. It let Felix regain some of that lost ground, though; he gritted his teeth and smiled, happy to have underestimated his opponent.

Felix thought he was ready for a fresh onslaught, but this time, at the last moment, the other boy began _screaming -_ a sound so unexpected and startling that Felix could not even process it. The boy punched straight through his feeble defense, his fist connecting with Felix’s face. 

It _hurt._ Felix staggered back from the blow, almost falling flat on his ass. Being hit with training swords and lances wasn’t pleasant either, of course, and he was more than used to pain - but he hadn’t predicted quite how much this would sting. It had missed his nose and eye, hitting his cheekbone. It would bruise and swell and be visible for everyone to see, like a badge of shame.

His opponent’s fist glinted red, but Felix wasn’t sure whose blood it was. 

From that moment on, Felix knew he’d lost the fight. His right eye was blurry with tears, and the pain in his cheek distracted him; the boy, seeming to realize that his strategy of yelling as he attacked was effective, decided to employ it constantly now. 

Felix put up as much of a fight as he could. He was knocked down twice, and both times he got himself back up, but he didn’t manage to land even a single solid blow. By the time the boy knocked him down a third time, Felix was fighting back tears in _both_ eyes.

“I give,” he said. He knew he couldn’t get up and raise his fists again, knew that much longer and he’d be bothering Mercedes to patch him up. He still hated himself for giving up.

The boy approached where Felix was sitting and held out his hand. His knuckles were definitely bleeding, Felix saw. “That was a good fight!” 

Felix ignored the offer of help and got up by himself, a little shakily. “It was _not_ a good fight. You don’t need to try to make me feel better. I’m sorry I wasn’t the challenge you were looking for.”

“It _was_ a good fight!” the boy insisted. “Don’t be so hard on yourself! I get it, you’re a sword person, I’m a fist person. If we fought with swords you’d be looking at me down on the ground, I bet. We’ve all got our strengths.” 

Felix did not mention that he considered himself a sword person _and_ a fist person. 

“Let’s fight again sometime,” the boy said, and thumped Felix on the back a little too hard. Felix suppressed a cough. “I really did have fun! I could even give you a few pointers.”

“You had fun because you _won,_ is that right?”

“Well, that doesn’t hurt!” the boy said, giggling. _Giggling -_ Felix hated that this short, too-loud, screaming, _giggling_ person had beat him _very badly_ in a fair fight. “Even if you beat me someday, I’ll still have fun, probably. I just like fighting!”

That, at least, Felix could understand.

He was about to find some way to politely excuse himself - he did not want to be around the boy for another second, if he could help it - when a voice at the entrance made them both turn. “Caspar, _there_ you are.”

“Of course I’m here!” the boy said. Caspar, Felix supposed his name must be. “Where else would I be?”

“Professor Manuela needs to speak with you,” the newcomer said. He was a sleepy-eyed boy with long hair, another student whose name Felix didn’t know. “She woke me up to make me go find you, so it _must_ be important.” 

“Alright, I’m coming,” Caspar said. Then he turned. “Let’s fight again sometime, Felix! I’m sure I’ll see you again soon!”

“Felix?” the other boy echoed, and he seemed to see Felix, really _see_ him, for the first time; they locked eyes, and Felix almost shivered under the sudden intensity of that gaze. But Caspar was already walking away, and although Felix got the sense the long-haired boy wanted to linger, he followed after, and did not glance back over his shoulder. 

Once they were gone, Felix forced himself to walk back towards the training dummies. He left his sword where it was, and began to get to work. Today, he would train with his fists.

He had a long way to go.

\---

The next day, his face had indeed swollen, but the constant ache in it only made Felix want to get out and train more. After classes were over, the plan was to scarf down something small, then run to the training grounds as fast as he could and stay until the sun went down. 

He did not expect someone to take a seat across from him at dinner. It was the sleepy-eyed boy with long hair, the one who’d come to collect Caspar the day before. “Is this seat taken?” he asked, sitting down before Felix had a chance to answer. 

“No.”

“Good. Felix Fraldarius, right?”

Felix looked up at him, but the boy’s face was neutral, and he could read no motive there. “Yes…”

“Do you know who I am?”

“No.”

The boy smiled, though the expression did not reach his eyes. “My name is Linhardt. I’m a student in the Black Eagles, and I’m particularly interested in the study of crests.”

Felix shoved a forkful of chicken into his mouth and said nothing.

“Is it true you have a major crest? I’ve heard it mentioned, but that was mostly hearsay. I wanted to ask you directly before making any assumptions.”

“Yes.”

Felix’s attention was focused on his food, so he did not see Linhardt’s face - but just from the change in his tone of voice, it was clear Felix’s answer excited him. “I’m sure you know how rare that is. Would you be open to letting me do a few experiments on you? Nothing painful or particularly difficult, I just-”

“Hey, Lin. Hey, Felix.” Caspar sat down at the table alongside Linhardt. “Didn’t know you two knew each other!”

“We don’t,” Felix said.

“Indeed,” Linhardt said. “I was only asking Felix about his crest.”

“Aw, were you bugging him about doing those experiments?” Caspar laughed. “I told you you should leave that alone. Maybe get to know a person a little before you ask something like that, yeah?”

“But Felix has a _major_ crest.” 

“Ooh, neat!” Then Caspar cackled. “Didn’t stop me from beating his ass yesterday, though!”

Felix finished off the rest of his food and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “I’m going to train,” he said, rising to his feet. “Caspar, if you want to spar again, you know where to find me.”

“Gotta finish my food first!”

“Slow _down,”_ Linhardt said. “That’s kind of disgusting, actually.”

The rest of their conversation was lost to Felix as he walked away. If he hurried, he could get a good warmup in before Caspar came to join him. It probably would make no difference in the outcome of their match, but Felix would take every advantage he could get.

\---

This time, when Felix did not take Caspar’s proffered hand after their match, Caspar just sat on the dirt next to him. 

“About your shouting,” Felix began. 

Caspar turned to look at him. “Huh?”

“I hate it.” 

Caspar laughed. “You’re not the first person to say that to me. I’m a pretty loud guy.”

“It throws off my concentration. And when you’re in my face shouting…” _It hurts,_ Felix finished in his head; but he did not say it aloud. It was a pathetic, weak thing to admit, that something like noise might cause him physical pain.

“I don’t really do it as a strategy or anything,” Caspar said. “Like, I’m not trying to throw you off! It just kinda comes naturally. It takes concentration for me _not_ to yell.” 

“I’m not telling you to be quiet,” Felix said. “It’s just… something I need to get used to.”

“Consider it my way of helping you prepare for the battlefield!” Caspar said, grinning. “Who knows if your enemies will be yelling, too? If you’re used to me doing it, it won’t be so distracting then!”

It wasn’t a bad point, Felix had to concede. But here, in this current moment, he did not care about distant battles and faceless, unknown enemies; he cared about beating Caspar. “Whatever,” he said, and rubbed his jaw. He wondered if he should bug Mercedes, if putting up with her babying him and tsking at his wounds would be worth the benefits.

“My knuckles are pretty bad today,” Caspar said, holding up his hands so Felix could see. “I’m gonna go see Linhardt. Wanna come? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind healing you, especially since you’ve got something you can dangle over his head.”

“Linhardt’s a healer?”

“Yup! A really good one, too.” Caspar pushed himself to his feet, and Felix, followed, slowly; he was already beginning to ache. “By the way…” 

“Hm?”

“If Linhardt starts pestering you about your crest, just tell him to back off. He isn’t trying to be rude, but he just likes learning about that stuff so much, he doesn’t think about much else.”

“Did he pester you, too?”

“Nah,” Caspar said, “I don’t have a crest.”

“But it seems like he’s your friend anyways.”

“Well, _yeah!”_ Caspar said, his voice cracking. “He doesn’t _only_ care about crests!”

Felix, feeling awkward, did not know what to say. 

“Anyways,” Caspar went on, “let’s go ask him to heal us. Do I have blood on my face?”

“No.”

“Okay, good. Follow me.”

\---

“Hey, Lin! We need a heal.”

“How did you _both_ manage to get so beat up?” Linhardt asked them. It had taken three knocks for him to answer the door, and his eyes were red with sleep - but it wasn’t even sunset yet. 

“We were sparring with each other, _obviously,”_ Caspar said. “Felix is fast, but not quite fast enough.” He grinned. “But he’s definitely getting better!”

“You two are _rough.”_ Linhardt grabbed Caspar by the shoulders and maneuvered him onto the bed, peering down into his face to assess his injuries. “Makes me quite glad I’m not expected to train like this.”

“Will you heal Felix too?” 

“Yes, of course,” Linhardt said. “You know, Caspar, I’m glad you found someone who actually _wants_ to fight you. I don’t mind patching you up now and then, but trying to stop everyone you provoke from holding it against you? _That’s_ a pain.”

“Yeah, speak for yourself,” Caspar said. “I’m not the one going up to strangers and asking them about their crests.”

“Still better than starting actual fights.”

Felix stood near the doorway as Linhardt healed Caspar and listened to the two of them bicker. It reminded him a little of himself and Sylvain - the casual banter of two friends who’d known each other for a long time. But Caspar and Linhardt’s back-and-forth seemed so effortless, and they were obviously both enjoying it; although Linhardt acted annoyed by Caspar, there was a smile on his face.

“Up, Caspar,” Linhardt said. “Felix, your turn.”

Felix sat down on the edge of the bed and found himself looking up into Linhardt’s eyes. For a long second Linhardt simply stared down at him, and Felix had to resist the urge to look away - Linhardt’s gaze was so direct, and his face so close, that it was just as overwhelming as Caspar’s screaming had been. Then Linhardt raised his hands and began to work his magic, and Felix felt himself relax. This part he knew well; Mercedes had healed him many times.

There was no banter between Caspar and Linhardt when Felix was being healed. It was almost breathtakingly silent; Felix could even hear the soft noise of the magic being used. Then Linhardt nodded at him. “All fixed up. And better luck next time - you’ll beat him eventually.”

“Thanks, Lin!” Caspar said. 

“Sorry to bother you,” Felix told him, rising to his feet.

“It’s no problem.” Linhardt gave them both a tired smile. “And if you do change your mind about my experiments…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Caspar said, and Felix felt himself being tugged bodily towards the door. “See you later, Lin!”

That evening, lying alone in his bedroom, Felix felt as if his head was _still_ spinning, just from being in the middle of the two of them. It was a lot, almost overwhelming - but, in the end, he decided it was not such a bad feeling after all. 

\---

The first time Felix wore earplugs was the first time he beat Caspar in a fight. Felix could still hear him, of course, but his screaming was less overwhelming, just background noise. In the end he knocked Caspar’s legs out from under him, then pinned him down, putting his full weight on Caspar’s stomach. Caspar made an awful noise and flopped around in an attempt to dislodge him, but Felix held him down. 

“Fine, fine!” Caspar yelled at last, falling limp. “I give.”

Felix stood and took out the earplugs. When he saw them, Caspar’s mouth fell open. “No way!” 

“It counts,” Felix said. 

“I never said it doesn’t!”

Felix held out his hand. Caspar grabbed it without a moment’s hesitation, and Felix hauled him to his feet. He was heavier than he looked. 

“That was _smart,_ Felix,” Caspar said. “Lin’s always trying to get me to be smarter when I fight, but it doesn’t come naturally to me. I fight without thinking, it’s just my nature. But maybe you could teach me how to fight smarter.”

“I’m sure Linhardt would be better at that than me,” Felix said. “This plan wasn’t all that great. It isn’t as if I can actually wear earplugs on a battlefield.”

“Well, no, but - you’re still smart! I never would’ve thought of that in a million years!”

“Do you need to be healed?”

Caspar felt his face gingerly. “I don’t _think_ so?”

“I’m fine too,” Felix said. Only his knuckles were a little raw; the rest of him was almost entirely untouched.

“Cool! Wanna fight again?”

Felix smiled. “Absolutely.”

\---

Linhardt always complained when the two of them came knocking at his door, but he never turned them away, not once - even the times when they woke him up or had to hunt him down in the library. But it was always Felix and Caspar both, and he healed Caspar first; so the day Felix twisted his ankle on a flight of stairs, he didn’t know what to do.

“Let’s go to Lin. I just saw him leaving the dining hall,” Caspar said. “He’s probably back at his room by now.”

“I don’t want to bother him.” Felix tried putting weight on the injured leg, but flinched; it didn’t feel right. _Damn it._ “I’ll go see Professor Manuela. Or Mercedes.” 

“Seriously, Lin doesn’t mind. If he did, he’d tell us.” 

“He doesn’t mind healing _you._ But me-”

Without asking permission, Caspar threw Felix’s arm over his shoulders, almost entirely supporting him. Caspar was so strong it seemed like it took no effort on his part. “Let’s go. Use me like a crutch.”

“Caspar - really-”

“Stop struggling,” Caspar said, trying to pull Felix along. “Or do you need me to carry you in my arms like a bride?”

That shut Felix up. He let Caspar half-carry him obediently to Linhardt’s room, though he had a frown on his face the entire time. 

Once they arrived, Caspar kicked the door. “Special delivery!”

Linhardt opened it and looked at the two of them, his eyebrows raised.

“He practically dragged me here,” Felix said, by way of apology. “I said I’d go to Manuela-”

“This time it wasn’t even me who did it,” Caspar said, bringing the two of them inside. “So you can’t blame me, okay?”

“Slow down, you two. What happened?”

“I tripped and twisted my ankle.” Felix felt his cheeks flush; saying that aloud made him feel so stupid. It was a waste of Linhardt’s time.

“It happens to the best of us,” Linhardt said.

Caspar grinned. “Not me!” 

“I did say the _best_ of us.”

“Hey!”

Felix seated himself on the bed, as he always did during this little ritual of theirs. This time, Linhardt knelt down beside him, taking Felix’s foot into his lap; then Linhardt slipped his boot off. Felix jerked his leg back in surprise. 

“I need to see the injury,” Linhardt said, peering up at him - and, somehow, Felix had never noticed how large and _blue_ his eyes were. “Just relax. I swear I’m not doing anything else.”

Linhardt’s voice was soft and soothing, as if he was talking to a scared animal; it might have been strange, but Felix felt himself calming down. He put his foot back in Linhardt’s lap and tried not to shiver as Linhardt pulled his pants leg up and his sock down, exposing the bare skin of his ankle. 

When Linhardt began healing him, Felix felt immediate relief; he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Goddess…” From the corner of his eye, he saw Linhardt smile. 

When he was finished, Linhardt leaned back on his heels. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” Felix said. It was the first time he’d ever thanked Linhardt for healing him, he realized. He slipped his boot back on and stood. “I appreciate it.”

“You know,” Linhardt said, smiling faintly, “you two don’t have to come here just when you have injuries.”

“Right,” Felix said, a little gruffly, “the crest experiments-”

But Linhardt shook his head. “No. I mean that if you have any spare time in between fighting each other, you can spend it here, if you choose.”

“Oh.” Somehow the idea that Linhardt might want his company - that he might even enjoy his presence - had never once occurred to Felix. “Sure.” 

“I don’t mind healing your injuries, of course,” Linhardt said. “But it might be nice to see you two _whole_ once in a while, too.”

\---

When Caspar announced that he and Linhardt were switching to the Blue Lion house, Felix felt an odd warmth in his chest. He was glad they were switching, he realized. He was happy to learn he’d be studying alongside them, seeing them not just in his spare moments but during the weekdays as well. 

“I learned Professor Byleth’s actually really great at brawling! I think I’m gonna learn a lot,” Caspar explained. “And Linhardt said something about the professor having a really rare crest, although who knows for sure.” He grinned. “I think he’s just switching because I am - not that I mind him following me, of course! We’ve pretty much always been together.”

The warm feeling in Felix’s chest turned sharp and cold. As glad as he was to have Caspar and Linhardt as his classmates, Felix actually found himself disappointed that their motives had nothing to do with him. _Stupid,_ he chided himself. _Stupid, stupid. Why_ **_would_ ** _it involve you, anyways?_

He did not like the answer that came to him: because Linhardt and Caspar were such a large part of his life now that _his_ thoughts and behavior were influenced by _them -_ he’d been hoping the reverse was true, too. He’d entertained the idea, once or twice, of leaving the Lions and actually joining the Black Eagles - not because of crests or brawling but because of _them._ The time he spent with them was easily the best part of his days. He longed for concrete proof they felt the same.

\---

Eventually Felix learned to fight Caspar without the earplugs. They were so evenly matched that victory felt like a coin flip - Felix one fight, Caspar the next. Linhardt never joined them at the training grounds, but after they sparred, they’d find their way back to his room, get healed, and lounge on his floor. Felix worked on his schoolwork and half-listened as Caspar and Linhardt bickered and teased each other, showing off that easygoing familiarity Felix had never thought he’d envy so much.

One day in winter, Felix got a lucky blow in, right on Caspar’s nose. Caspar was slow to dodge, and the punch connected solidly; there was an audible _crack_ that made the hair on Felix’s neck stand on end. Caspar cried out in pain; and when Felix looked, there was blood streaming from his nose and down his lips, dripping off his chin.

“Ahhhh,” Caspar moaned, “damn it, that hurt…”

“I - I think I broke your nose.”

“Feels like it!” Caspar said, reaching up to touch it and then crying out again. “Ow!”

“Let’s go to Linhardt,” Felix said. “Or - or I can bring him here, if it hurts too much and you don’t want to walk.”

“No!” Caspar said sharply, his eyes wide. He pawed at his face, but it did nothing to stop the flow of blood - it just smeared it around more. “No, we can’t go to Linhardt, I’m bleeding a lot.”

“But you _need_ a heal,” Felix said, narrowing his eyes. “Your nose is probably broken, idiot.”’

“I thought I told you before, Linhardt doesn’t like blood!”

“No one _likes_ blood,” Felix said, grabbing Caspar’s wrist - but Caspar jerked away.

“Linhardt _really_ doesn’t like blood. Really, really doesn’t like it. I’d rather just wait here until my nose stops bleeding and clean it off.” He sighed. “I’m sure it won’t bleed _that_ much more…”

“Then let’s go to Mercedes,” Felix said. “Actually. Just wait here. I’ll get her and come back.”

“Oh, yeah!” Caspar said. “You know, I’m so used to Linhardt healing me, I forgot other people can do it too!”

 _“Idiot,”_ Felix said, but not meanly, and ran off. 

Luckily Mercedes was in her room; when she saw Felix at her door she smiled and cocked her head to the side. “Felix! What a pleasant surprise, seeing you today.”

“I - I need you to come with me,” he said, the words coming out too fast. “I probably broke Caspar’s nose. Can you heal it? He’s up at the training grounds.”

To Mercedes’ credit, she sprang into action immediately, slipping on her shoes and throwing her shawl over her shoulders. “Yes, let’s go. Tell me the story on the way.”

“There’s no story,” Felix said, falling into step beside her. “We were sparring. I punched him in the nose. It made a gross cracking sound, and there’s a lot of blood. Hopefully you can heal it.”

“I’m sure I can,” Mercedes said. “But has something happened to Linhardt?”

Felix frowned. “Huh?”

“I don’t think I’ve healed you since Linhardt became a Blue Lion,” Mercedes said, “and I’m not sure I’ve _ever_ healed Caspar. You three stick to each other like glue! Not that I mind,” she added quickly. “I appreciate having another healer to split the work with. But it is a little surprising that you asked me at all!”

Felix was silent for a moment. Then he decided that, whatever story he fed her, Mercedes would see through it in an instant. Honesty was always the best policy when it came to her. “Linhardt hates blood. And there’s a lot of blood.”

“Oh, my! That’s a strange quality for a healer to have, isn’t it?”

Without even knowing why, Felix felt the need to defend Linhardt, even though in his conversation with Caspar he’d been more or less in Mercedes’ shoes. “It’s just how Linhardt is. He can’t help it,” Felix grumbled. “It’s dumb, but he didn’t choose to be like that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! Did I sound too harsh?” She was smiling, and Felix got the strange feeling he was being mocked. “I’m sure he didn’t choose it.”

Felix grunted.

“You know, Felix, you’re a very good friend.”

“Look, we’re here,” Felix said, quite unnecessarily; Mercedes could see the training ground just as well as he could. 

“Well, lead me to Caspar. We mustn’t keep him waiting!”

When they got there, Felix could not tell if the blood had stopped flowing - there was so much of it on Caspar’s lips and chin, and more smeared onto his cheeks from his useless attempts to clean himself up. His nose itself was a vivid pink. “Hi, Mercedes,” he said weakly. “Thanks for coming.”

She stepped up and healed him before she even spoke; it took all of five seconds. “There you go!” she said, beaming. “All fixed!”

“Man, that was fast!” Caspar said, rubbing his nose. “It doesn’t hurt at all!”

“Now,” Mercedes went on, “it may keep bleeding for a little while. Don’t be alarmed if you see this, it happens! The blood can get stuck in your nose and take a little bit to come out, but it’s perfectly normal!”

“Okay,” Caspar said.

“So you may not be able to have dinner with Linhardt tonight.”

“I - what?” 

“Be safe, you two,” Mercedes said, giving them a wave before she turned and walked out of the training grounds. 

Felix looked Caspar up and down. He’d been wearing his white long-sleeved uniform shirt; it was in bad shape now, blood on the collar and the ends of the sleeves where he’d tried to wipe off his face. “Now that the main problem’s fixed, you have to clean up,” Felix said. “You look disgusting.”

“Right. I can’t exactly go to the dining hall like this. Or see Linhardt.” Caspar looked thoughtful. “How did Mercedes know that about Lin, do you think? Does she just know everything?”

“No, of course not. I told her.”

“Oh,” Caspar said, laughing, “that makes more sense!”

“Let’s get going. You need to wash up and change.” 

“Right, right.”

Caspar washed his face off at a water pump, then, shivering, half-ran back to his room to change his clothes. Felix wasn’t sure why, but he followed close behind; Caspar hadn’t asked him _not_ to come, after all, so it was probably fine. 

When they got to Caspar’s room, Caspar shut the door behind them and sat down on the bed. Then he groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Felix…”

“What? Does it still hurt?”

“No, but…” He sighed. “I have a problem.”

“What?”

“That’s the worst part - I can’t tell you!”

Felix frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I really wanna tell you. I want your advice. But I can’t!” Caspar groaned. “What a mess…”

“Is it about…” Actually, Felix couldn’t think of anything Caspar might feel he couldn’t talk about. Caspar wasn’t exactly the secretive type. “Are you regretting switching to the Blue Lions? I wouldn’t blame you if you were…”

“No,” Caspar said, raising his head to look Felix in the eyes. His face was pink. “Now stop guessing.”

“Then why did you bring it up in the first place?”

“I couldn’t help it! I’m just so used to telling you and Linhardt everything that pops into my head!” 

“So tell Linhardt,” Felix said. “If you don’t want to tell me.”

“Ahhh, I can’t tell him either!” 

“You’re acting strange,” Felix said, stepping closer. “I didn’t think I punched you _that_ hard.”

“You didn’t. I’m not acting strange. I just… Look, forget I said anything, okay?”

“I can’t just make myself forget,” Felix said. He felt hot with annoyance now. Their fight had been too short; he was aching to get back out there, with Caspar or alone, and let out his excess energy. “Are you going to get changed or do you want me to leave?” 

“No, you don’t have to leave!” 

But Caspar was just staring up at him without moving, as if waiting for something. Felix shivered. “Look, I’ll be up at the training grounds for a bit,” he said, stepping towards the door. “Join me if you want, or whatever.”

Felix punched a training dummy for another hour, but Caspar never did come back. Maybe he didn’t want to risk getting two broken noses in a day, Felix reasoned. It made sense; even Mercedes’ saintlike patience might waver at that. 

When his arms were shaking with exhaustion, Felix finally headed to the dining hall. Caspar was not there, but Linhardt was, passed out at a table in the corner. 

Felix grabbed food for both of them and sat down. “Linhardt,” he said. No response. Louder: “Linhardt. Wake up.”

Linhardt stirred and blinked, his eyes bleary with sleep. Felix didn’t understand it at all - how did Linhardt let himself be so vulnerable, in the middle of the dining hall of all places? 

“This is for me?” Linhardt said, reaching for the food. “Thank you.” He glanced around. “Where’s Caspar?”

“Dunno.” Felix stabbed a chunk of meat so roughly he felt the table shake. “He was acting weird today.”

Linhardt looked at him levelly, not touching his food. “Weird how?”

“After we fought, he said he had something he couldn’t tell me. He made a big deal of it, too - said he wanted advice, but he couldn’t ask me. _Or_ you.” 

Linhardt hummed thoughtfully.

“Has he done this before?” 

“Sometimes,” Linhardt said. “Whatever it is, it probably involves us.”

“Right. But what _is_ it?” Felix continued to stuff his face angrily. “I wish he hadn’t brought it up. It’s like he was holding it over my head.”

“I’m sure Caspar didn’t mean to make you feel that way,” Linhardt said. “He can be thoughtless, but he’s not cruel. And, knowing Caspar, you will find out soon enough.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He can’t keep a secret to save his life.” Linhardt smiled. “I’m shocked he was able to keep this one so long in the first place.” 

Felix didn’t know Caspar well enough to say whether Linhardt was right, and that irked him; and being in the dark irked him, and their fight getting cut short, and everything about that day, until Felix found himself leaving the dinner table and heading _back_ to the training grounds and punching the same dummy again and again until he could no longer even form a fist.

The next day, he was very sore. Classes were a burden; he could barely even write. But Felix followed Caspar to the training grounds afterwards anyways, unable to turn down an invitation to fight.

He lost as badly as he thought he would. For a long while he could only stare up at the sky, listening to the sound of his own breaths. Then a shadow fell across his field of view: Caspar, squatting beside him. Felix hadn’t managed to lay a finger on him during the fight. 

“Hey,” Caspar said, “what’s up?”

“Just catching my breath.”

“You were kinda bad today,” Caspar said. For once, he wasn’t smiling; in fact, his brows were furrowed, as if in concern. “No offense, but you weren’t at the top of your game, you know? You were good, but not _Felix_ good.” 

“So what?” Felix turned his head so he didn’t have to stare up at Caspar anymore. “We all have off days.”

“Yeah, I know! I was just making sure it wasn’t anything worse, that’s all!”

Felix heaved himself up into a sitting position, grimacing as his muscles complained. “Want to fight again?”

“Uh, dude, are you sure you don’t need a heal?”

“Quite sure.” Felix got to his feet. “If you don’t want to go again, tell me. I’ll just train by myself.”

Caspar’s mouth hardened into a thin line. “Are you… mad at me?”

“No.” Felix scuffed the dirt with his boot. “Are you going to fight me or not?”

“You _are_ mad! But why?”

“I’m _not_ mad!” But even as he spoke the words, Felix realized he was. Over the last day, his annoyance had grown and grown until it was full-blooded anger simmering in him, burning him. “Look, it’s - it’s the thing you said to forget about yesterday. You said not to worry about it, and Linhardt said the same thing-”

“You talked to Lin about it?”

“Yes! And he said not to worry, but - why did you tell me you had a secret and then not tell me what? And it obviously involves me. It’s…not fair,” Felix said at last. “It’s not fair.”

“Oh.”

“That’s all you have to say? ‘Oh’?”

“Yeah.” 

“Well, I can’t forget about it!” Felix said. “And you wanted to know why I’m mad, that’s why.” 

“Look, Fe, it’s really nothing bad…”

 _Fe?_ “Then just tell me. Stop acting so strange about it!”

Caspar groaned, looking positively miserable; for a long moment Felix thought he was going to turn and leave entirely, but then he braced himself and looked Felix in the eye. “Okay. Here’s my secret: I’m in love with you _and_ I’m in love with Linhardt. Both of you! At the same time! What a problem, right? I can’t decide if I’m the luckiest guy in the world or the unluckiest.” He gave an awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I’ve got two best friends and they’re both great and I want - I want to be with them both all the time, I want to spend all day fighting with you and lounging with Lin, and… and it’s the best, and the worst.” 

“I. Me too.” Felix stepped towards him. “I want that too.”

“Well, _yeah,_ I know you like fighting and stuff, but… you heard me say _love,_ right? That’s why it’s kinda weird. What we do now is great! I really enjoy being with you and fighting with you, but…” He dropped his gaze. “I think about things you probably don’t.”

Caspar’s words filled Felix with a strange clarity; he felt stronger, somehow, with everything laid bare in this way. “You don’t know that,” Felix said, and knew he was not imagining Caspar’s blush. “Anyways - are you going to tell Linhardt?”

“Wait. Hang on,” Caspar said, his voice turning shrill. “What kind of answer is that?”

“You didn’t ask a question.”

“I thought when I told you, you’d be even angrier! Are you not?”

“That makes no sense. I was angry because I didn’t know. Why would I be angrier when you told me?”

“Because I thought you’d think I was gross!” Caspar said. Despite his nervous laughter earlier, he looked very serious now. “Are you saying you don’t?”

“No.” 

Caspar opened his mouth and closed it again, his hands fidgeting with a button on his shirt. Then at last he said, “Look, when I said I think about things you probably don’t… are you saying you don’t mind that? And that - and that maybe you _do_ think about doing those things? With me?”

Felix took a moment to let the whole scene sink in: Caspar, so nervous he was shaking, confessing - to _Felix._ Felix’s heart was pounding, but he didn’t actually feel nervous; the conversation was filling him with a strange joy. “I’m not sure,” he said. “Maybe you could be more specific. ‘Things’ is pretty vague.”

Caspar’s eyes were wide. “Are - are you serious?”

Felix nodded.

“Agh, this is… well, this is really embarrassing!” 

Felix did not drop his gaze; he kept looking Caspar in the eye, saying nothing, not moving. He still ached, but this conversation was too important to worry about that - he pushed his pain to the side. 

Finally Caspar spoke again. “When I say ‘things,’ I mean, like…” His voice got very soft. “Being able to touch you. Holding your hand. Even, I dunno. Kissing you.” 

Felix had suspected that was what Caspar meant, but hearing it said so plainly made him blush. Before he could say anything, Caspar spoke again. “Look, I didn’t _want_ to tell you all this - you forced it out of me! So I’m not asking you anything, I’m not… I’m not trying to get you to do anything. I just didn’t want you to be mad at me, and somehow all this came out.” 

He actually looked miserable. Felix did not want to be the cause of that misery. “You may not be asking me anything, but will you let me give my answer?”

“Huh?”

“To be honest, I haven’t really thought about doing those things with you before,” Felix said. “But the idea of it… it’s not half bad.”

“It’s - you -”

“”I’m glad you told me,” Felix said. “You’re awful at keeping secrets, and you shouldn’t try.”

“I know,” Caspar said. “I’m sorry.” 

Felix was still thinking about what Caspar had just said - that he wanted to hold Felix’s hand, touch him, maybe even kiss him. Somehow Felix could imagine that all happening quite easily. His hand in Caspar’s… it truly was not a bad thought. And now he wanted it.

But there was one part of this whole confession business that was strange, and had not yet been resolved. “So you feel this way about Linhardt, too?” Felix asked. 

“Um, yeah,” Caspar said. Then he said something surprising: “Do you?”

For the first time, Felix tried to hold his emotions at arm’s length - to look at the way he felt about Linhardt, really _look_ at it, with a more critical eye than he’d ever used before. Much of what he’d felt for Linhardt had been wrapped up for what he felt for Caspar: a feeling of wanting to be close to both of them, of cherishing the time he spent in their company. He’d been jealous of Linhardt’s closeness to Caspar, and around him Felix had even felt a little on-edge; Linhardt was so different from him that he did not understand the boy’s motivations at all, never knew if he was being mocked or just teased. 

But Felix liked Linhardt outside of Caspar, too. He wanted to grow closer to Linhardt for Linhardt’s sake, not just because it meant he’d spend more time with Caspar. 

“I’m not sure,” Felix said at last. “I… I wouldn’t mind getting closer to him. I don’t _love_ him,” Felix added, “not like you do, but I wouldn’t mind trying the things you mentioned, maybe.” He looked at Caspar curiously. “Doesn’t it make you jealous, hearing me say this about him?”

“Not - not really?” Caspar frowned. “Should it?”

“I don’t know,” Felix said honestly. “But it doesn’t really matter how I feel for Linhardt, does it? I have no idea how he feels about me. For all I know, I’m just some annoying hanger-on.”

“Oh, no,” Caspar said quickly. “He doesn’t think of you that way, or he would’ve told you.”

“But how _does_ he think of me?”

Caspar pursed his lips. “I’m not sure. I don’t even know how he thinks of _me,_ and we’ve known each other pretty much forever.” 

Felix thought of all the times he’d seen Caspar and Linhardt interact - the banter, the teasing, the back-and-forth that always seemed to come so naturally. He thought, too, of his conversation with Linhardt the night before - the way he’d defended Caspar, the smile on his face when Caspar’s name had crossed his lips.

“Well,” Felix said, “he definitely doesn’t _dis_ like you.”

“Agh! This is killing me!” Caspar ran a hand through his hair, fidgety with nervous energy. “Let’s go to Lin’s room right now and tell him. I can’t stand not knowing.”

“Both of us?”

“You want to know how he feels about you, too, don’t you?”

“Well…” Felix supposed he did, although Linhardt liked Caspar but not Felix, it would sting. “I’m not sure…”

Suddenly, Felix’s tiredness seemed to catch up with him, and he staggered, almost losing his balance; Caspar jolted forward and put a hand on his arm. They’d touched dozens of times, between all their fights and the times they’d helped each other to Linhardt’s room, but somehow now this particular touch made Felix shiver. 

“We should go anyways,” Caspar said decisively. “You need a heal.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “If we go, I know it won’t just be that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You won’t be able to keep your mouth shut.” 

“I - hey!” 

Caspar’s face was very close to Felix’s now. Felix could clearly see the pale blue of his eyes, the rosiness of his cheeks, the way he ran his tongue over his lips. So, so close.

“If you can’t walk,” Caspar said, “I can carry you.”

“I can walk,” Felix said. “You didn’t beat me _that_ badly.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause a second ago, I thought you were gonna faint.”

“You’re just looking for an excuse to carry me.”

Caspar did not deny it, just gave a nervous laugh. “Come on, let’s go,” he said, and tugged Felix towards the training grounds’ exit - but gently, so gently. “You really aren’t looking that great.”

Felix let himself be led, and tried to calm the pounding of his heart.

For a second after Linhardt opened his door everything felt so normal, as if this was any other time they were stopping in to get healed. But as soon as they were inside with the door shut, Caspar crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at Linhardt, frowning. “Um, I gotta talk to you about something…”

“What did you do to Felix _now?”_ Linhardt asked, the humor in his tone mixed with real concern. “He doesn’t seem that bad on the surface - did he break a rib?”

“Uh, no. I don’t think so. Felix, did you break a rib?”

“No,” Felix said, snorting. “Of course I didn’t, idiot. I told you, you didn’t beat me that badly.” He looked squarely at Linhardt. “Neither of us needs a heal today.”

“Oh,” Linhardt said, frowning.

“Linhardt,” Caspar said, “I’m in love with you.”

“I see… And Felix as well, right?”

For a second Felix’s heart froze in his chest: he was not sure if Linhardt was suggesting Caspar was in love with Felix, or Felix was in love with Linhardt. But Caspar, it seemed, chose the first interpretation. “Yup!” he said, sounding almost joyful. “I really, really like both of you guys!”

“Then that secret you couldn’t tell Felix…” Linhardt met Felix’s eye and smiled. “I figured it would come out sooner, rather than later.”

“See, you didn’t need to worry,” Felix said. “Linhardt doesn’t seem grossed out, either.”

“Grossed out?” Linhardt raised his eyebrows. “Frankly, I’m not even _surprised._ I feel like I’ve been waiting years for you to realize your own feelings. But I’m glad you finally did.”

And for a moment Felix was yet again the third in a pair - off to the side, looking back and forth between the two of them as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Linhardt’s smile was so warm and kind that he did not even really need to reciprocate the confession, not aloud; it was crystal clear where his feelings lay.

But then Linhardt turned to Felix. “And I am not surprised to see Caspar realize his feelings for you, either.”

Felix blinked. “You aren’t?” 

“Caspar is an easy person to read,” Linhardt said. “I had noticed him falling for you for a while now. But _you_ aren’t so transparent, Felix. I’m not sure how you feel.”

“I…” Felix swallowed: both Caspar and Linhardt were looking straight at him, waiting, expectant. “I hadn’t even thought about this until Caspar confessed.”

“But now?” Linhardt pressed.

“Now… Well, I don’t think I’m _in love_ with either of you. Not - not yet. But I… I want to spend time with you. And doing the things Caspar described, it doesn’t seem bad.”

Linhardt’s smile was playful. “And what ‘things’ did Caspar describe?”

“Holding hands,” Felix said quietly. “Kissing.”

“You wouldn’t mind doing these things with Caspar...?”

“And,” Felix said breathlessly, “maybe, with you.” He stared at Linhardt. “But I can’t read you, either. And if you don’t like me, none of that matters.”

“What about my behavior makes you think I don’t like you?”

“I don’t know,” Felix said, frustrated at himself because he felt so damn _nervous._

“I don’t love you either,” Linhardt said. “That would perhaps be strange.”

Felix nodded mutely, his heart in his throat.

“But I find you intriguing,” Linhardt said. “And… attractive. I consider you a good friend of mine and enjoy my time in your company. And if we all feel positively about each other, and we have no qualms about it… I see no reason why the three of us cannot partake in those things you mentioned, together.” 

Caspar let out a whoop, loud enough to make Felix jump in surprise; then he darted forward and planted a kiss on Linhardt’s lips. 

Felix, standing back, watched it happen as if in slow motion: Linhardt’s eyes widening as he realized what was happening; Caspar almost missing, then adjusting; Linhardt’s eyes fluttering shut as he finally kissed back. Then, just like that it was over. They pulled apart - and Caspar turned and kissed _Felix._

Caspar’s lips were damp - from his kiss with Linhardt, Felix realized. The kiss was a little too forceful, and made Felix step back; but once he regained his balance he found himself trying to return the kiss. He didn’t know how to do this, but mimicked what Caspar’s lips were doing against his, hoping he was doing it right. 

It didn’t last long enough for Felix’s liking. Caspar pulled away first, threw his head back and laughed in sheer joy. “I’m the luckiest man alive!”

And Felix felt himself grow warm, thinking: _He’s that happy just from kissing me._

It was a wonderful feeling.

\---

That evening they did exactly what they normally did, except they were all touching: the three of them lay sprawled on the floor, with Linhardt’s hair tickling Felix’s shoulder and Caspar’s legs resting atop Felix’s lap. Somehow it felt so natural, being touched this way - casually, gently, with no expectations. 

Felix was almost drifting off to sleep when he felt a hand on his shoulder - Linhardt’s. “As much as I understand the value of sleeping,” he said, “I think it may be beneficial for you to do so in your own bed.”

Felix rubbed his eyes and nodded. For a fleeting second he thought how nice it would be to just fall asleep there, his head on Linhardt’s shoulder, Caspar pressed against his side. Another day, perhaps - when it wasn’t a school night, and when his body wasn’t aching from how hard he’d pushed himself the day before.

“Well,” Caspar said, _“I’m_ not sleepy. I’ll stay here.”

“Felix,” Linhardt said, rising, “let me walk you to your room.” He offered Felix his hand, and Felix took it; Linhardt hoisted him to his feet with unexpected strength. 

Caspar opened his mouth as if to say something, but then Linhardt caught his eye and something seemed to pass between them like a secret code. Caspar shut his mouth. “I’ll be here!”

“I’ll be back relatively soon,” Linhardt said, stretching. “Come along, Felix.”

“I can-” _I can walk myself home without help,_ he’d been about to say. But this wasn’t about that, was it? “Alright,” he said instead, following Linhardt out of the room.

To his surprise Linhardt did not only walk him to his bedroom, but followed him inside. “Don’t think my interest in you comes second to what I feel for Caspar,” he told Felix. His eyes were narrowed, but his mouth was smiling. Felix was not sure if his expression was joyful or predatory or both. “I may not have known you for as long, but I find you to be a very interesting person.” 

“Yes,” Felix said. “You said something like that a little while ago.”

“I did, didn’t I? But I want you to know I mean it. Caspar can be a bit overwhelming. He has the tendency to steal all the attention from any room he’s in. But you have captured my attention as well, and I look forward to spending time with you.”

“Still want me to participate, huh?”

Linhardt frowned. “Participate?”

“In those crest experiments.”

Linhardt’s laugh was beautiful - and he was so close now that Felix could feel his breath on his neck. “Yes,” he said. “This is all a very elaborate strategy on my part, months in the making.”

Felix did not know what to say - this was the full extent of his ability to banter - so he did what he’d been longing to do all evening: he leaned forward and kissed Linhardt.

Linhardt made a soft noise of pleasure, which Felix _felt_ as well as heard; then Linhardt raised his hands and put them on Felix’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Linhardt tasted and smelled good; and Felix even dared to bring a hand up to stroke his hair, which was fine and so, so soft. 

Felix did not know how long they kissed, but it was Linhardt who pulled away first. Despite his tiredness, Felix would have been up for kissing him all night. 

“I suppose I should return to my room before Caspar begins to wonder what’s taking me,” Linhardt said, sighing. 

“Yeah,” Felix said. “But - tomorrow…”

Linhardt seemed to understand him perfectly. “Yes, tomorrow, we shall certainly continue where we left off. But for now, you should sleep.” He smiled. “It’s not a good sign when _I_ am the one telling you that.”

“Alright.” Felix said, then risked one more stroke of Linhardt’s hair - just about the softest thing he’d ever felt in his life.

“Tomorrow,” Linhardt said sternly, catching Felix’s hand. He turned and stepped towards the door. “Sleep well.”

\---

Felix, lying in bed that night, did not stay awake long, as tired as he was. His thoughts as he drifted off were scattered wisps of that day’s events: Caspar’s fists against his skin; Caspar confessing, nervous and jittery; the beating of Felix’s own heart as they went to Linhardt’s room; the way it had felt to kiss and be kissed; and the casualness of the touch as they’d all sprawled on the floor together, the _rightness_ of it. Felix liked that touch more than anything. A day ago he hadn’t even known he enjoyed being touched, but now he could think of nothing in the world he wanted more.

 _Tomorrow,_ he thought, and fell asleep smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! 
> 
> If you want to reach out to me on twitter, [you can find me here.](https://twitter.com/doop_doop2)


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